Page 20 of Sharing Forever in Hope Creek (Hope Creek #2)

Despite the happiness of the occasion, the remainder of the wedding reception dragged for Callie.

She knew some of the locals were planning to continue the party at the hotel, so she’d pulled Morgan to one side and asked her to make sure Phil went with them.

That way, she and Jack would have the guest cottage at the farm all to themselves.

‘Single ladies! Line up!’ Margaret called. ‘Stella’s about to throw her bouquet!’

‘Ooh!’ Mitch’s aunt exclaimed. ‘I’m sure Connor and I will be next down the aisle, so throw it my way, Stella!’

‘No interference, Liz!’ Mavis said sternly. ‘No peeking, Stella. You have to give all of us a fair chance.’

‘Morgan.’ Callie nudged her sister in the ribs and almost doubled over with laughter as she saw Mavis send Blue a coy look.

‘Oh Lord!’ Morgan said. ‘I think Blue’s in need of some protection.’

‘No fighting now, ladies,’ Jim chimed in as a couple of the women started jostling towards the front of the line.

‘Everyone ready?’ Stella asked. Callie and Morgan joined the rear of the queue as Stella turned her back and counted, ‘One, two, three!’

Stella threw the flowers so high, they almost touched the white satin material draped over the barn roof beams as they flew back in an arc.

‘Here they come!’ Morgan said. ‘Grab them, Callie!’

Morgan could certainly have caught them had she tried, but she knocked them off course and straight into Callie’s outstretched hands.

More than a little embarrassed amid the mix of cheers and good-natured complaints, Callie held the bouquet high and studiously avoided looking in Jack’s direction.

‘Time to throw the garter!’ Mitch announced. ‘Come on, bachelors, form a line.’

‘I’d rather be forming a line to kiss the bride!’ Blue announced.

Knowing that Stella had put Margaret’s garter on her thigh up from her prosthetic lower leg, Callie was surprised to see that it was her real foot that Stella put up on the chair.

There were loud whistles as Mitch raised Stella’s dress high enough to ease a white, lacy garter off that leg.

‘Clever girl,’ Morgan said quietly beside Callie. ‘She’s going to keep Margaret’s blue garter for Mitch!’

‘That’s right.’ Callie remembered now that Stella had said Margaret’s blue garter would be for Mitch.

Callie was really proud of Stella, because in allowing Mitch to lift up her dress enough to remove the garter, she’d exposed the prosthesis for everyone to see.

For several months, Stella had worn nothing but trousers to hide the artificial limb, and although—thanks to Mitchell’s encouragement—she had started wearing summer dresses and skirts, Callie was relieved to see that Stella had revealed the limb so blatantly and appeared to be completely comfortable doing so.

‘Now, who will get the garter?’ Morgan asked.

‘Don’t be shy, gentlemen,’ Mitch encouraged before he turned his back on the assembling bachelors. ‘All I can say to my fellow NFL players is don’t let the local AFL players out-jump you!’

‘Count to three, Mitch, and let’s have it done!’ Jim called.

‘One, two, three!’

The garter sailed through the air and Callie’s eyes widened as Jack shouldered his way out from between two burly footballers and jumped up high to catch it.

Jack held up the garter in victory and the guests cheered.

The cheers were drowned out by wolf-whistles as Jack looked pointedly at Callie and he sent her a smouldering gaze.

Surely not.

Surely he couldn’t be thinking about marriage so early in their relationship?

‘Oh my!’ Morgan declared. ‘I can see I’m going to have to keep Phil out for a long time.’

‘Line up now and let’s form an arch and send the bride and groom on their way,’ Mavis directed.

In a tradition that was customary in Hope Creek, two lines were formed.

Jack got into position opposite Callie and they held each other’s hands, raising their arms up high to form an arch.

As Stella and Mitch crouched and made their way through the ‘tunnel’, Callie brought her arms down and she and Jack trapped them for a few seconds.

‘Congratulations again!’ Jack told Mitch.

‘Love you, Stell,’ Callie told her sister. ‘Be happy!’

‘You too,’ Stella said before turning to Jack. ‘Happiness for both of you.’

Hugs and kisses were exchanged before the couple continued down the arch.

When Stella and Mitch finally left the reception, Callie and Jack farewelled Blue, Jim and Margaret. They opted to walk back to the neighbouring farm rather than accepting a lift with Liz, Connor and Kade.

The second they arrived at the old caretaker’s cottage that had been renovated into guest accommodation, they rushed inside in a replay of the urgency they’d known the night they’d first met.

The door had barely closed behind them and Callie was hard up against it. Jack’s mouth melded to hers and his hands mapped every contour and plane of her upper body while her hands rediscovered the hard muscles of his back and the valley along his spine.

‘I … promised … myself … I’d … take it slow,’ he rasped between their hot, open-mouthed kisses.

‘Fast—is—fine.’ The husky need in her words elicited an almost animalistic growl from him.

Their passion built with each kiss and each touch, and when he slid his hand behind her and brought her pelvis flush with the hardness of his erection, every nerve synapse sparked with need.

‘I could take you right here, right now,’ he told her.

Kicking off her slip-on shoes, she wanted to be completely naked with him. ‘Do it. Morgan will keep Phil out for at least an hour and a half.’

He shook his head and scooped her up in his arms and she realised he was going to carry her through to the bedroom that had been Stella’s when she’d lived in the renovated cottage for a short time. ‘It’s late, but last night Kade was out late looking for the Southern lights.’

Just as well one of them was thinking straight, she conceded as she hooked her arms up around his neck. Mitch’s son could well be overexcited after the wedding and, although it was unlikely, it was possible he might take his dog out for a quick walk before he settled for the night.

It was the last coherent thought she had.

She closed her eyes tight, breathed in Jack’s masculine scent and savoured being in the strength of his arms as he strode through the small cottage. It was only when he deposited her gently on the floor at the end of the bed that she opened her eyes again.

The second Jack’s hand pushed up the fabric of the bridesmaid’s dress and made contact with her bare thigh, her whole body went up in flames as though he’d tossed fuel on a bonfire.

His palm burned her skin. His skilful fingers trailed higher, hooked under the elastic of her panties and wasted no time in drawing them down her hips until the lace pooled at her feet.

Callie’s knees almost buckled as his questing hand cupped her mound then his fingers parted her and began to stroke up and down her seam before they dipped into the dampness of her need.

‘I’ve dreamed about this moment,’ he said huskily as her zipper purred down her spine and her dress joined her pants.

‘I’ve lived for this moment,’ she groaned out, knowing she wanted more than Jack’s fingers inside her. She wanted their bodies joined right now more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

Her hands had been clutching his shirt, but now her fingers worked furiously at his buttons, yearning to reacquaint themselves with the solid strength of his chest. But, God, it was difficult to coordinate her movements because his palms slid over her hips then over the tight mounds of her buttocks before he drew her against his erection.

‘Not fair,’ she complained. ‘You’ve still got too many clothes on.’

‘So have you.’ His hands moved along the planes of her back to undo the clasp of her strapless bra and her breasts felt swollen and heavy as he removed the garment completely.

When he stepped away from her, Callie’s protest died in the back of her throat and she watched in awe as he finished the job she’d started and removed his shirt.

Her body begged his muscular biceps to draw her against the broad expanse of his chest and a quiver of longing ran through her as she followed the smattering of chest hair that covered the area between his male nipples but stopped short of the hard six-pack of his well-defined abdomen.

Callie had to swallow to lubricate her dry throat.

Jack was all man and she felt petite and feminine against him.

His shoes, socks, trousers and briefs quickly followed his shirt and she let out a breath as she acknowledged that the sheer perfection of his body was surely every woman’s fantasy and a sculptor’s dream.

His thick manhood, rising strong and proud from the juncture of his thighs, could’ve been intimidating had she not known already how much pleasure there was to be had when he sheathed himself deeply within her. When he moved in and out of her and created such delicious friction …

‘You’re magnificent.’ The second she voiced her appreciation, she felt the heat from her blush stain her cheeks as she wondered if she sounded incredibly gauche.

Jack didn’t laugh at her lack of sophistication. Instead, his eyes were ablaze with desire as he told her, ‘You’re every inch as beautiful as I remember.’ His hands reached up to weigh her breasts. ‘The only difference is that your breasts are more lush. Are they more sensitive, too, I wonder?’

‘Yes.’ Yes, they were definitely more sensitive, she realised on a rush of elation as he captured one rosy peak in his mouth and suckled on it.

Oh Lord. Her senses were on overload. With every stroke of his tongue, an arrow of flame shot southward and made her clitoris pulse so that she instinctively arched her pelvis forward, seeking satisfaction.

Jack read her so well. He dropped to his knees, his hands on her hipbones as he feathered almost-reverent kisses over her stomach.